


Righteous Dick

by plutosrose



Series: Bucky Barnes Bingo 2020 [22]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Brock and Jack are not HYDRA, Captain America Steve Rogers/Modern Bucky Barnes, Hand Jobs, Light Boss/Employee Relationship, Light Harassment from Brock and Jack, M/M, SHIELD Agent Bucky Barnes, The lightest of d/s undertones
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-03
Updated: 2020-12-03
Packaged: 2021-03-10 10:46:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,497
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27849614
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/plutosrose/pseuds/plutosrose
Summary: Steve leaned forward in his chair, which made Bucky suddenly think of the footage of the jaguar pouncing on a crocodile that he’d seen on the Discovery Channel. The crocodile might have seemed all tough and shit, but it had never stood a fucking chance.“You seem to have a thing for undermining me.”-SHIELD Agent Bucky knows Captain America's an unparalleled asshole--but that doesn't stop him from thinking he's stupidly gorgeous.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers
Series: Bucky Barnes Bingo 2020 [22]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1882291
Comments: 6
Kudos: 154
Collections: Bucky Barnes Bingo 2020





	Righteous Dick

**Author's Note:**

> yeah I hate me too lmao

Here was the thing about Captain America. 

He was an unparalleled asshole.

That was really all there was to it.

Well, not all there was to it. 

For example, Captain America didn’t seem to appreciate that gathering intelligence was a key part of what SHIELD did as a fucking intelligence agency, and the first time that Bucky had suggested that maybe, just maybe, they should have kept some of the HYDRA goons alive for the purposes of interrogating them about the whereabouts of other HYDRA goons, the good Captain had trained those steely blues on him like he was trying to bore a hole in his skull.

Maybe he could have–did Captain America have laser vision? He’d have to look that up some time.

For the most part though, Bucky tried to put up with him. Tried to hold his tongue as much he could, because the last thing that he wanted was to have a fucking national icon looking disappointed in him in front of the rest of his co-workers. Especially epic douchebags like Rumlow and Rollins. He could avoid their bullshit most days, but the last thing that he needed were errant comments about how he was Captain America’s bitch, especially since neither of those pricks seemed even vaguely threatened by the idea that he could report them to HR. 

But it was so, so, so hard to keep everything to himself when Captain fucking America was looking at you like you were the world’s biggest idiot--and that was just the time that the good Captain had said, “I’m perfectly aware of SHIELD’s functions as an agency, Barnes.” 

And that wasn’t even the time when he’d advised that the Captain use a parachute if he was making drops, especially in the middle of the ocean. That had earned him a sharp look, fucking giggles from Rumlow and Rollins, and a, “Wonderful suggestion, Barnes, would you like to be on parachute duty during our next mission?” 

Which was how he’d ended up stuffing parachutes into backpacks the next time that he was in a jet miles above the Atlantic Ocean, Rumlow and Rollins barely able to contain their glee. 

Captain America wasn’t even technically part of SHIELD. He wasn’t even technically his boss. He wasn’t on any of their org charts. He didn’t have a phone number or an email, and he didn’t come to the break room when it was anyone’s birthday. He was an Avenger, first and foremost, and other than the Black Widow, it wasn’t like any of them were co-workers. It wasn’t like fucking Iron Man had signed his birthday card last year or anything. 

He digressed. 

The worst thing about Captain America, though, was the fact that he was drop-dead, Hollywood Golden Age gorgeous. It wasn’t fair. On the one hand, the fact that he was an asshole made it easier for him to take orders from him on the field and not just ogle him, but the fact that he was gorgeous made him kind of like the fact that he was an asshole too.

Or maybe those things had nothing to do with each other. It was hard to tell. 

And honestly, he was happy to just put up with the fact that he wanted to get fucked by his technically superior officer while he told him that his ideas were terrible. He was a grown man. He could live. And if he needed to watch some very specific Captain America porn to live, then he would do that. 

That was, until the day that he very stupidly said, “I don’t think it’s a good idea to approach the target from that direction,” in a meeting with Steve and the rest of the STRIKE team, and Steve had summarily dismissed everyone. The shit-eating grins on Rumlow and Rollins’s faces were enough to make him want to die. 

Steve leaned forward in his chair, which made Bucky suddenly think of the footage of the jaguar pouncing on a crocodile that he’d seen on the Discovery Channel. The crocodile might have seemed all tough and shit, but it had never stood a fucking chance.

“You seem to have a thing for undermining me.”

Bucky barked out a laugh and leaned back in his chair. “If you call trying to make sure that the unit stays in one piece undermining you, then sure.”

Steve just leaned further forward, a mischievous glint in his eye. Bucky blinked back at him.

The room was completely silent for a lot longer than Bucky was comfortable with. He shifted in his seat. Steve, for his part, just continued to stare at him.

Before he broke out into a devilish, wicked grin.

Bucky shifted again, and that was when Steve burst out into a laugh that was low, mean, and sent a shiver up Bucky’s spine.

“It gets you hot. When I tell you off.”

And then, Bucky wanted nothing more than to simply melt into a puddle of goo and disappear, because fuck, hearing, ‘It gets you hot’ from Captain fucking America of all people should have been completely illegal.

Bucky burned hot under the collar and tried to avoid his gaze, while Steve grinned even more broadly.

“I’m right, aren’t I?”

And here was again, why Captain America was an unparalleled asshole, because he seemed to get some kind of delight out of being right, even on life or death STRIKE missions out in the middle of fucking nowhere. But right now, now was much worse, because it had Bucky wriggling uncomfortably in his seat, desperately wishing that he’d bolted out of the room the second that Rumlow and Rollins had left.

Steve swiveled his chair over to him, and was it possible for someone swiveling in a swivel chair to be sexy? Or had he just not gotten laid in an extremely long time?

At this point, he didn’t particularly care about those distinctions, because his cock was straining against his tac pants, and Steve was looking like the jaguar about to pounce on the crocodile again. 

“Do you want this?”

Bucky shifted again, before meeting his gaze. “What do you think?”

Steve grinned. “I think you do, but it’s not about what I think, Buck.”

Hearing ‘Buck’ instead of ‘Barnes’ made a very embarrassing squeal? moan? whimper? Honestly, he wasn’t even sure. He might have just had an out-of-body experience. Maybe all he was was the light fixture above them staring down at Steve’s stupid blond head. 

“Yeah, I do.” 

And then Steve just...stuck his hand down his tac pants. “No moving.” 

Bucky let out what he regretted to say was an incredibly undignified sound, and bucked (ha) into Steve’s grip. 

“I said no moving, Buck, you going to disobey a direct order?”

It felt like flames were licking up his spine. “No, no I’m not,” he whimpered, and the grin that Steve had on his face was so sinful it should have been illegal, and it probably was, considering that he was Captain America.

And said Captain America was pumping his cock like his life depended on it, rubbing his finger over the head like if Bucky came it would eviscerate every HYDRA fuckwit on earth.

Bucky grinned for a reason then that had nothing to do with Steve spitting into his palm and running slick skin against his shaft--he’d have to tell him that one later.

“Hmm, you’re moving again. I have to take care of everything, don’t I?” and there was Steve, effortlessly holding his hips still with one hand, while he continued to jerk him off at a punishingly pleasurable pace. 

“Shit,” he murmured, as the arousal that had coiled tight in his abdomen unspooled suddenly, and come spilled across Steve’s hand.

Here was another thing that should have been illegal--the fact that Steve took his hand, and licked it, Captain America really licked his come off of his hand.

Not Captain America, Steve.

Steve did.

Because Captain America most definitely wouldn’t do that, Captain America wouldn’t let him see that behind all the patriotic bullshit that he was really just a man.

Damn if Bucky wasn’t going to jerk off to some Captain America porn when he got home though, he had some very specific tastes, okay.

“I like you better like this,” Steve announced, and a blush crept up Bucky’s neck.

“You’re an asshole,” Bucky shot back, which just made Steve snort.

“Like you don’t like that.”

The worst part was, he really, really did. 

Bucky fixed his pants and got up to leave the conference room. Steve nodded very solemnly at him as he walked away on shaky legs, and said, “You’re a good man Barnes,” which was possibly the most confusing thing that had happened in the past few minutes.

“Thanks, I have to go home and come to terms with the fact that Captain America just jerked me off.”

Steve laughed.

And yeah, he kind of loved that sound.


End file.
